


He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

by Entwinedlove



Series: Oxeye Daisy [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2019-06-22 15:01:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwinedlove/pseuds/Entwinedlove
Summary: This work is abandoned and will not be completed.Daisy grew up next door to the Dixons and her life has entwined with theirs. The world has gone to hell and the Dixons stroll back into their little shit-town to find it abandoned and dead. They follow the fresh trail of someone on their way south and stumble upon Daisy, and then meet up with the Atlanta group. How will the group react to Daisy's growing secret?





	1. Chapter 1

The sun had just finished rising when Daisy tossed a lit match onto the wall of bodies she'd made. She wasn't sure if the fire would attract more of the dead things but she hadn't planned on staying to find out. Grabbing her backpack, she made sure her quiver was on her thigh in easy reach and carried her compound bow in her hand. She took one more mental inventory and then started walking down the road, headed south out of town.

* . * . *

Daryl had convinced Merle that they needed to head back into town to see what was going on that had all the radio stations were saying to head to Atlanta to a refugee camp. As they were packing up the last of their hunting gear into the bed of Daryl's old blue pickup someone came stumbling out of the woods. Merle, the taller and older brother, had his back towards them. "Daryl," he mistakenly called out, "did ya roll in somthin' dead?"

Daryl stepped out of their little two-room cabin just as the shambling person reached for Merle. Merle's reaction time was practically instant, he was out of the person's grasp and ready to fight. "Whoa, whoa, whatcha grabbing ol' Merle for?" he asked, but the person only turned and reached out again, snapping their jaws and growling. "Hey buddy, back off," he boomed out as he backed up some more. They continued like that, Merle calling out warnings and backing up while the person stumbled after him, still trying to take a bite out of him.

By the time Daryl had grabbed his crossbow and cocked it, Merle was by the tailgate and the person closing in on him wasn't slowing or stopping. Wasn't even responding at all to Merle's taunts and threats. So it didn't come as a surprise when he didn't respond to having a weapon raised at him. So Daryl, at the end of his rope, shot the guy in the chest. But he didn't go down. He didn't even act like he knew he was shot. Merle had gotten around to Daryl's side, but the advancing man was speeding up, unhindered by the bolt sticking out of his chest. Merle knew Daryl would have to stop to recock and reload his crossbow, so he reached into the bed of the truck where Daryl had just put their bags. Merle was digging around frantically as the man got within arms distance of Daryl.

As Daryl was backing up his heel caught on a tree root. He tipped back and the strange man reached out and grabbed hold of his arms like he was trying to catch him. They both went crashing to the ground. Daryl's arms were on his crossbow, which was between the man and him, but it was the scared whimper that Daryl made when the man's mouth came close to biting him that had Merle finally grabbing his gun from his pack. His arm came around and he shot the stranger in the head.

The strange finally stopped moving and Daryl slammed him off of him and was back on his feet, crossbow clenched in his hands as he aimed at the dead man. Panting hard, he looked back to Merle who also had a look of shock on his face. "What the fuck?" Daryl panted out and Merle just shook his head a bit.

Forcing himself to relax, Daryl quickly took stock of the dead man at his feet. The man's skin was a pale gray, his brown hair hung in his face. His clothes were torn and stained with what looked to be blood. One of his camo pants legs was torn at the calf and Daryl could see what looked to be a bite mark festering there, surrounded by caked blood and yellow pus. What was left of the man's face was clawed at and the eye that didn't get blown away by the bullet was still open. Milky and clouded and staring unseeing at the sky above.

"Think we should head back into town now, little brother," Merle was saying, as if he had just come up with the idea, "see what all this mess is about."

What Daryl and Merle found in their hometown, however, wasn't what they expected. It was deserted. After the second dead-looking person came after them and got back up after being shot in the chest, Merle and Daryl started shooting heads first.

They decided to scout the two stores they were interested in, the outdoor supply and the grocery store. The outdoor supply was ransacked and thoroughly picked over where guns were concerned which had Merle spitting hellfire but there was a large box of bolts. The two brothers gathered what supplies they could scavenge from the little store and stashed it in the bed of Daryl's pickup. They stopped back by their trailer at Merle's insistence and loaded his motorcycle into the back of the truck as well as a bag of clothes each and any food they had in the cabinets.

The next stop, the small town's only grocery store was surprisingly untouched from the outside. Just to be sure, they scouted the back of the building too. That's when things got weird, or weirder than dead people walking around. There was a large semicircle of smoldering corpses around the back exit of the store. Inside the half circle of dead, there were lots of mop buckets, set up to catch rainwater was Daryl's guess. Off to the side, closer to the door but not to the concrete yet was a shovel and lots of upturned dirt.

Merle was the one who taught Daryl how to hunt and live in the woods and to be observant, so he should have known better, but he walked through that upturned dirt anyway. Daryl smiled and had a little chuckle at Merle's expense for it too.

"Damn!" Merle yelled louder than necessary when he stepped in shit. "What the hell?" He kept swearing as he strode to the pavement at the door and scuffed his boots to try and get it off.

"Outdoor toilet?" Daryl teased, stating the obvious.

"Who the hell did it right at the door though? You do that shit out in the woods!" Merle complained with a disgusted snarl on his lips.

"Maybe whoever it was was too scared to leave their little circle of dead bodies here," Daryl again stated what he thought was obvious, just to pester his older brother.

"C'mon then, let's see what's left," Merle ordered and stomped the rest of the way to the door. They left it open to illuminate the back of the store and noticed all the pallets of stocked food were scattered and picked over. In the small break room set up for employees, they could see boxes of trash, empty cans, and food wrappers. Pushing past the double doors that led into the main store, they took a moment to clear the restrooms before continuing on. The men's restroom was stacked shoulder high with spoiled frozen food boxes and soured dairy products. The mirrors in the front looked like they'd been used as target practice with the rotten fruit set up in crates close to the door. The door had had a blanket stuffed under it and the smell of the rank food hadn't slipped out until they opened it. The women's restroom, although clear of foodstuffs had a makeshift shower in the last stall made of a large tub and a hose with holes poked in it attached overhead with rubber bands and string. A good siphon on the hose from a tub full of water would make for a slow shower, but relatively effective, Daryl reckoned.

"Someone was living here," Daryl spoke quietly as he and Merle walked through the aisles after clearing the rest of the store. Ever single shelf was empty of real food. Plenty of salad dressing, barbeque sauces, and ketchup but not so much as a jar of pickles or peanut butter was left. Even the baking aisle was practically bare.

"Was?" Merle questioned, not arguing just prompting his younger brother to finish his thought.

"Yeah, the bodies outside were still smoldering, but there isn't any food left and no one's here. Any bedding or weapons are gone. Whoever was here is gone now and probably left this morning."

"Well, let's go see if we can find them. Either they're bunked down somewhere or they've got a trailer. Probably headed towards Atlanta, like the broadcasts were telling us."

So they two gathered what little supplies they found and put it all in the pickup and headed down the road, south towards Atlanta. They had been driving for about two hours when they saw something walking down the center of the road. Merle suggested just running them over, thinking it was just another walking corpse, but Daryl wanted a closer look. He drove around the figure and a good ways up the road and then turned the truck sideways to block the road. The figure kept walking, almost as if it was ignoring them, but as it got closer they realized it wasn't a corpse.

A woman, thin and short, with short-cropped light blonde hair, was still holding her pace as she got closer to the truck. "Is that Daisy?" disbelief colored Merle's scratchy voice.

A beat after Merle's question, Daryl's own grunted out as he squinted at the woman, "Is that my shirt?" Merle cast a sidelong glance back in his brother's direction, an eyebrow raised in question. It went unanswered as the woman got close enough to call out without shouting.

"Merle?"

He opened his door and she quickened her pace for the remaining steps between them, bounding over to him and wrapping both arms tight around his neck. He returned the hug, stooping for her to reach him and then standing tall to lift her off the ground. He squeezed her tight, pulling her flush against him as she squealed in flustered amusement, and then put her down gently.

"It's been years girl, where ya been?"

"I've been around," she said, evading his question, "Where you boys headed?"

"Looking for the group who held up in the grocery store back in town. Suspect they have quite a bit of supplies with them."

"You're looking at her," Daisy replied. She could feel Daryl's eyes on her, studying her like he didn't remember what she looked like. Her left hand held her bow in a relaxed grip like it was an extension of her arm. Her quiver full of arrows on her left hip aimed so her right could pull them out as needed. Clipped at her right wrist and dangling into her palm was the release she used. That he used to tease her for using. Strapped on both shoulders, she had a large backpack that looked to be bulging with her supplies. When Merle had let her down, she had felt her sleeveless, faded red-plaid button-up shirt, which was originally Daryl's, ride up a bit and expose her back to Daryl, so she knew he had to have seen her little handgun resting in the back of her pants. Camo men's pants that she had hacked off and rolled up to make capris out of them.

"Just you?" Merle scoffed at her, "you couldn't have gone through all that food on your own."

"Town was full of backcountry rednecks and survivalists, you really think that store didn't get looted first chance they got?" She really looked at Merle then, his eyes were clear and he was clean-shaven. His hair was buzzed except at the top where a few of his curls still lay messily atop his balding head. His clothes were relatively clean and he looked healthy. Not like she had much to compare him to. She hadn't seen him in at least six years. The last three he'd spent in lockup for possession and dealing, she'd learned from Daryl three months back when she'd seen him last. The day before he was supposed to pick Merle up. Daisy bottled the emotions those thoughts brought up and picked up explaining to the Dixon men what had happened while they'd been tromping around in the woods. "There wasn't much left when I decided to leave my house and hold up there." She squinted in thought and added, "'bout two weeks ago now. It was well picked over. I think if I never saw another can of turnips, I'd be grateful."

Daryl piped up from the driver's seat, "all those torched bodies?"

"Did that this morning. Figured they'd served their purpose, camouflage and all, might as well be a bit respectful of the dead. Even though they don't stay dead anymore."

"So these things, they are dead then?" Daryl questioned, his head tipping towards Daisy, indicating one creeping up behind them. Merle pulled his gun but Daisy was faster, her bow already in hand.

According to the men, her arrow missed its target, going low and piercing the shambling creature's thigh, but down it toppled and started crawling as it got a whiff of live humans in front of it. "Yeah, they're dead," Daisy answered pulling another arrow from the quiver at her thigh. "Any human or animal would have responded to that with pain or maybe fear, but it just keeps coming." Her second arrow flew and hit its mark. The creature flopped flat with the arrow sticking out of its head. She walked quickly, eyes darting all around as she jerked one arrow and then the other free from the twice dead body. Wiping them on the dead man's back, she slid them both back into her quiver as she trotted back towards the truck. "Haven't you smelled them," she asked, her nose twitching from being close to the dead man, "they're starting to rot, of course, they're dead."

The smug look on Merle's face as he smirked at Daisy's back caused Daryl to snarl and start the truck, "We going or what?" Daisy looked from Daryl to Merle and then to the ground, expecting Merle to send her off on her own. The clipped way Daryl talked to her made her sad and angry at the same time, but she buried it deep, she didn't want to deal with him right now.

"Well, climb on in, girl, I ain't sittin' bitch," Merle grumped at her. Daisy's eyes raised and looked up into Merle's. They weren't going to leave her. A relieved smile crept over her features as she took in the look on Merle's face. She turned quick and tossed her backpack into the bed of the truck and climbed in, her bow settling vertical between her knees on the floorboard. Her thigh pressed against Daryl's as Merle situated himself next to her. It was a rather tight fit, even though she was thin, but she breathed a sigh of relief. She might make it out of this alive after all.

The car ride was quiet for the first half mile as more walking corpses crept out of the wood surrounding the road. When the truck had passed them and no more had been spotted for a while Daryl broke the silence. "All those bodies at the store, you do that?"

"I didn't kill them all, but yeah, I arranged them like that."

"Why," Merle asked, genuinely curious, his trademark smirk in place even if he wasn't being a sarcastic ass.

"Really Merle?" She countered. "Y'all must not have had a lot of them show up at the cabin." Daisy felt Daryl tense beside her, his right hand gripping tight to the steering wheel.

"How'd ya know we were at the cabin?" Merle asked, raising a brow.

"Oh," she hesitated briefly, "just a guess." Daisy chanced a glance at Daryl, his jaw was clamped tight and that grip on the steering wheel was turning his knuckles white. "I set up the bodies like that for cover." She continued, " The walking ones respond to smell, sight, and sound just like any other predator. They aren't very efficient at it though. They don't think, they just react."

"Sounds like you've been hunting them," Merle quipped slightly impressed.

"I didn't have a car before all this. It took me two days to get to the store from my apartment. I slept in the trees." Daisy paused to breathe before continuing, "These things, they don't tire. They don't sleep. They don't shut up, neither, when food's nearby."

"When'd ya figure out how to kill them?" Daryl mumbled. Daisy knew what she was about to say would cause Daryl to stiffen up again. He didn't seem want Merle to know they'd kept in touch. But she wasn't an all-out liar, so she answered the question.

"There was this guy at work that tried to attack one of the girls. Tried to bite her. No matter what the bouncer, Mike, said the guy wouldn't leave. Mike grabbed the guy's shirt to physically pull him from the club and he turned around and bit Mike. A customer grabbed a chair and cracked the guy upside the head. Mike bled out before the ambulance arrived." Daisy took in a deep breath, excited to be talking to others again despite the traumatic topic, "He didn't stay dead for long. He got back up and bit into Carly before we could even process what was happening. I bashed him in the head with my heels until he stopped moving and got the hell out of there. I was scared the police would arrest me for killing him. Even though I knew I saw him die. The power was out by the next morning and those things were everywhere. It was like a horror movie."

Daisy blinked back tears, thinking about her friends at work and the fact that they were probably all dead. She finished up her story after taking another deep breath, "All my neighbors died. Or left. I heard a few people screaming and then nothing. I stayed locked up in my bathroom for a few days—moved all of my food and stuff and locked the door. Had to come out eventually when I ran out of food. I wasn't one to keep a lot in stock," she huffed out a small chuckle, "Haven't seen any live people until y'all drove up."

Merle let out a booming laugh, "Your heels? Damn girl, where d'ya work?"

"The gentleman's club over near the old mill. And they were my favorite pair too. Six-inch platform stilettos."

"Shit, girl!" Merle laughed again. Daisy could see the upward twitch of Daryl's lips, no doubt remembering her dancing in those heels. "So that's why you wouldn't answer me earlier. You're a stripper. What, didn't want big brother Merle to know or somethin'?"

"Something like that," she smiled back at him. The silence came back slowly as Merle finished chuckling but not nearly as tense as it was before.

Daisy soon fell asleep, her head lulling over onto Daryl's shoulder. The warm confines of the truck combined with the wind noise from the open windows had soothed her into slumber.

Merle whispered over her to his brother after a while, "Did you know she was a stripper?" Daryl grunted his acknowledgment but didn't elaborate. "Is that why you ain't happy to see her? You've been acting all pissy." He paused thinking about it for a second, "speaking of piss, where'd that bottle go?" He then started digging through the glove box.

"You're not gonna do that in here. I'll pull over," Daryl barked back, his voice still quiet as to not wake up the girl whose head was on his shoulder.

"Bullshit," Merle responded, "No need to pull over, this works just fine. You've never been a pussy about it before."

"You're gonna do that with her in the truck with us?" Daryl asked, thinking that would stall his brother so he could pull over.

"Why not? She's asleep. 'Sides, ain't like she ain't seen one 'fore," Merle grumbled as he unzipped his pants.


	2. Chapter 2

Miles down the road, Daisy had woken up but didn't feel the need to break the silence in the cab. She was lost to the thoughts in her head. Thoughts about her situation, about what was going to happen to her when they got to the Atlanta refugee camp. How she might get Daryl alone to talk with him. She started to focus again on their surrounding as she realized she was getting hungry and had to pee. Finally spotting a billboard that sparked a solution to a problem that had been bugging her during her lonely nights camped out in the store, she decided to voice her idea.

"Hey guys," she spoke quietly as to not interrupt their thoughts. "I've got an idea and I gotta pee."

"We've got a bottle around here for ya to piss in if ya need it," Merle said his voice quieter than normal.

"That really doesn't work for girls, Merle," Daisy teased back.

"Why not?" he responded with that sarcastic smile, "I'm sure Daryl'll help me get your pants off."

Daisy smirked right back at him, "Unless you wanna sit in piss, we'll need to be stopping soon. And it looks like my idea will be up the next exit." She smiled and pointed to the billboard they were slowly passing under.

A billboard that was advertising the local adult novelty shop.

Merle let out a whooping laugh, "You wanna stop at a sex toy store? You need a hand with something?" Daryl was smiling as well, one of those rare toothy, laughing smiles that Daisy hadn't seen in a long time.

"Nah, hear me out. It's gonna be a small store. The back won't have any windows to block off and they'll have a good stock of batteries to grab up. My lantern and flashlight use batteries and I'm betting yours does too." She smiled as Merle regarded her, biting his top lip and nodding.

"A'right, we'll make a pee-stop for you and grab the batteries then we can swap drivers and head on—"

"It's a good place to stay the night," she interrupted. "We've got about two hours 'til dark so we can set up a small cook fire and eat some dinner. Get back on the road in the morning."

Merle looked over to Daryl, who was nibbling on the side of his thumbnail, obviously debating the idea.

"Why should we stay the night? You took a good long nap, you could drive for a while?" Merle questioned, testing her.

"The walking dead seem to get more active at night. We're starting to come up on more cars in the road, what if we need to stop to move cars or go around a roadblock?"

"Then we'll shoot 'em," Merle countered like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"And likely draw more to us. We're getting closer to the next city, there's gonna be more wandering around. It's not safe to be out after dark, Merle, please, you've got to see the sense in that." Daisy felt her voice slide into a whine, "And my legs are cramping. My butt hurts from sittin' so long."

Merle saw another opening to tease her, "Well I'm sure Daryl'll massage that cute little butt if ya asked 'im nicely."

"We'd have to stop for him to get to it," Daisy quipped and raised her eyebrows, the challenge there unspoken.

"A'right, a'right. You win." Merle joked and laughed a bit, "Can't look at that poutin' face for too long."

Daryl huffed a breath through his nose and glanced over to Merle as the exit came slowly over the hill. At least the novelty shop was right off the highway, nestled right on a frontage road in amongst the trees. Daryl parked the truck and pocketed the keys. He looked at Daisy, the first time he actually caught her eye since she joined them and mumbled, "Stay put," as he shut the door. He grabbed his crossbow out of the back and had started around the truck as Daisy slid to Merle's now closed door, her mouth agape as she worked to smart off back to him.

"Merle—" she started as they began to walk towards the low brick building.

"Stay put," Merle repeated, "lock the doors, roll up the windows. We'll come get you when we're sure it's clear."

"But I can help—" he cut her off again and grabbed a tire iron from behind the seat.

"Nuh-uh, Days. We got this," he said tucking his handgun into his pants at the small of his back. Lifting the tire iron and glancing one last time at her, Merle's eyes showed his seriousness and concern about her safety; the conversation was clearly over.

Daisy let out a sigh and nodded once. She slid back to the driver's side, pushed the door lock down and began rolling the crank on the window, raising it up. Despite being the only car in the parking lot, they all wanted to be sure that no one else was lurking around.

* . * . *

Once inside, Daisy was starting to second guess her insistence at this location. Yeah, there were no windows, but the pitch black darkness seemed to play tricks on her tired mind. After dinning on a large can of beans with the boys she was left hunched down with her bow, practically sitting on her lantern. She was seeing things in the dark that she logically knew weren't there, but that still didn't ease the tension from her body.

Merle was taking first watch in the front part of the store while she and Daryl were supposed to be getting some rest. When she had first entered after the all-clear from Merle, she had grabbed her backpack and stuffed as many batteries as she could find into every crevice. She also went and found the small little item she hoped the boys didn't see her pick up. Something she hoped would scratch a little itch she had. Of course, once she had picked an aisle of the back room to call hers, she had immediately spooked herself up so much she was afraid to move, much less relax or sleep. She hadn't even pulled out a blanket, just huddled close to her lantern and leaned against her lumpy backpack. Sharp edges of the battery packs dug into her spine as she breathed shallowly, listening for any signs of the walking dead.

"Daryl," she whispered, hoping that just hearing his voice would ease the irrational fear she was clinging to. Daisy held her breath, hoping and waiting for a response. A sound, anything, to remind her she wasn't completely alone in the absolute blackness that her lantern couldn't illuminate. It was while she was waiting, drawn out by the suspense of her overworked nerves that she must have fallen asleep. Or passed out from holding her breath.

* . * . *

Light punctuated the darkness, causing Daisy to raised her right hand to cover her eyes. But in her unease the night before, she didn't remove her bow release and the metal clip smacked down hard on the bridge of her nose. She let out a startled, "fuck," as she opened her eyes. Merle was standing in the open doorway leading to the front of the store, letting the morning light filter in and settle around her.

"You okay there, Daisy-girl?" Merle teased that sarcastic smile of his in place. Daisy just rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and started stretching, sending a glare his way before he continued. "Found a bag for you to put those batteries in, girl," he said tossing a woman's large pouch wallet at her. Noticing the red marks and indentions where the sharp battery clam shells had settled into her skin during the night he added, "take 'em out of the pack, take up less room that way. You got a knife?"

Not trusting her voice Daisy nodded and straightened her legs out as she pulled her backpack over to her lap and started to unzip it. She paused and waited for Merle to go, leaving her to her task, but he just watched her for a moment. She swallowed down the phlegm at the back of her throat and finally broke his gaze, "Anything else?"

"Got a little breakfast out here for ya if ya want it. Daryl caught us some squirrel this morning."

"This morning? How late is it?" She asked hoping they didn't let her sleep too long.

"'Bout seven," he answered. Then he nodded once and left the room leaving the door propped open for her to see what she was doing. Daisy waited about a minute before opening her bag and digging out the knife she had in there and all the battery packs she had stuffed in it the night before. She made sure her clothes were packed on top of her other supplies and made a mental note to add her few food items to the boys' supply. It would make her bag a little lighter. As she worked on her task she hoped her stomach would stay settled this morning. Hoped smelling cooked up squirrel wouldn't have her heaving into the nearest bush. The thought of eating squirrel didn't bother her, but she wasn't sure how her delicate stomach would react to it.

She finished removing the batteries from their plastic containers and was amazed that they all fit into the pouch Merle had found for her. She wondered what had been in it before but figured it didn't matter. Maybe tampons or something that Merle wouldn't think of as supplies. After she finished with her battery task, she got up and stretched fully, hearing her knees pop and her back crack as she worked this way and that. Wondering how her body would hold up in the long run. If there was a long run. Daisy hadn't been thinking of the future all that much. Well, she had, but she wasn't sure how long of a future she had. Bottling up her feelings, because they always got in the way, she straightened her spine, made sure her clothes were righted and headed out into the morning.

Thankfully, the squirrel hadn't made her queasy. After she'd finished going to the bathroom and was ready to go, she walked up on Daryl pitching a little hissy fit. Merle wanted to ride his motorcycle, saying that the truck was cramped and hot. It was hot, but the old pickup never had a working air conditioner, so Daryl was used to it. Daryl didn't want Merle to ride the bike. By the way he was acting, huffing and stomping off, Daisy figured it had to do with not being alone with her in the cab of the truck. That it would be awkward or something. Which had her thinking that the only person making it awkward was him, but she didn't voice it.

Daryl helped Merle get his bike off the truck bed and talked quietly to him about following his lead, whether to take the interstate the rest of the way into Atlanta or coming up some of the less-traveled roads. Daisy didn't really care how they got there, so she leaned against the front bumper of the truck and just listened to the quiet that surrounded them.

The silence was broken by Merle's loud-ass bike roaring to life followed quickly by a gush of hot air as Daryl started up the pickup behind her. Daisy steeled herself to an awkward journey and went around and slipped in the passenger side, already starting to lower the window and stare out at the trees.

After fifteen minutes of the silent treatment from hell, Daisy decided she was going to mentally check out and let her mind wander to earlier memories. Before the world had gone to shit; before her _life_ had gone to shit. When she was innocent and happy. Or as happy as a little girl with a dead mother could be.

She was seven-years-old and Daisy's daddy had just moved them to a new home. She didn't know how far away it was from her old one, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to see her mom's family anymore. Her mama had died when she was younger and she didn't remember much about her. Daisy knew that her mama didn't die in childbirth but no one ever really told her how her mama had died. She enjoyed going over to her grandma's house because they had a swimming pool that they let her play in during the summers. So Daisy wasn't very happy about not being able to see her grandma anymore or go play in the pool but Daddy had promised her they'd get a pool the next summer after he got a job and they were settled.

There were woods all around their trailer and Daisy thought there'd be nobody for her to play with like at their old home, but she was wrong. There was a little boy next door. She had been out climbing trees when he started climbing up behind her. They sat in that tree for a while arguing about who's tree it was and who was there first. Neither of them won that argument. The next day, after her daddy had gone to work she was back out in the woods daydreaming and climbing trees and the little boy had snuck up her tree again. This time they were a bit more civil towards one another and they both were curious about the bird's nest they found. They just peeked in it, didn't touch anything, but that mama bird came down and startled Daisy so much she slipped off her branch. The little boy, whom she finally learned was named Daryl, helped her back up and they chatted about nothing for a while.

Daisy was a talker. When she'd get excited, she could talk someone's ear off. Her stringy blonde hair was always falling in her face and there was a perpetual smudge of dirt on her cheek, but Daryl enjoyed their little tree chats and went out to chat with her as often as he could get away from his pa.

Daisy told Daryl all about her grandma's swimming pool and how her daddy had promised her they'd get one too, soon, and she invited him to come over and play at her house. Daryl didn't do it, he knew he wasn't supposed to wander off too far and he figured Merle, his older brother, would be mad if he couldn't find him. They never did get that swimming pool.

Daisy remembered the next summer after school had let out and she was back to climbing trees. Daryl had come to her tree and was so excited, his brother was going to teach him how to hunt. Daisy asked if she could come too, but Daryl said girls couldn't hunt and teased her. She could still remember what he looked like when she told him straight off that she'd just ask Merle to teach her herself. His shaggy brown hair, sticking up at odd ends where he had tugged it in frustration at her apparent lack of understanding—girls couldn't hunt, it was just a rule. She followed up on it too, and the following week Merle had the both of them trekking through the woods, showing them how to look for tracks, what they could eat, how to dress game if they killed it, and what they had to do when they needed to go to the bathroom and there wasn't a toilet around.

Daisy hadn't known why Merle was gone over that past fall, but she'd missed him and she'd missed Daryl who she thought had run away from home. Turns out he had just gotten lost and turned around so much that he didn't know up from down. When Merle came back, he promised Daryl that he'd never get lost in the woods again.

Daryl and Merle were really her only friends. There were other kids, other neighbors. Girls from school that she probably could have been friends with, but none of them liked climbing trees and they all teased her for being friends with Daryl. Daryl was her first friend, the first person to really listen to her ramble on and she figured if those girls didn't want to be friends with her because of him, then she didn't need them either. So she'd went through school, doing all right, her daddy would be home on the weekends and every so often he'd bring some friend home, but she wasn't ever lonely, really. Wasn't even ever scared.

Especially when Merle bought her a bow. He had gotten a bonus at work for Christmas and he bought Daryl a crossbow and her a compound bow. It was like the ultimate reward for learning how to hunt and not puking when she had to dress her own kill. He knew that after Christmas he wasn't going to be around much, he was joining the military, so he wanted them to be able to hunt on their own. He couldn't babysit them forever.

She had brought that bow home to show her daddy and he had just grunted and told her to not kill anybody with it. She was so proud of that bow. And then after high school, when she hadn't seen Merle in a while and when she was in a bad place in her life, she pawned it. Oh, how she cried when she realized she'd never get it back. But when she had gotten herself straightened out, five years ago, she had beamed with a new-found pride in herself when she bought a new one. Brand new, all black. And she had splurged and gotten the arrows with the hot pink feathers. She smiled thinking about those damn feathers.

Hot pink feathers were like her pride banner, even when she danced, her favorite accessory was a hot pink feather boa. When she was feeling low or tempted by something, she'd bring out that boa and dance the night away. Not a care in the world. Some people might have thought that stripping was a low job and that she should be ashamed of it. Taking her clothes off for men. But she didn't see it that way. She didn't care if she was dressed to the nines or practically naked. She just loved to dance. She loved to dress up and the makeup and the stage name. To get paid to do what she enjoyed was a bonus. Yeah, there were on occasion the pervs who wouldn't leave her alone, but for the most part, in the tiny populated town she lived in, all the customers were regulars. Some would sit in the same seats every Friday, ask for the same waitress, a wad of cash, usually about fifty bucks from their paycheck broken down into two dollar bills, ready to be spread out among the girls who danced. She was comfortable and happy, for the most part.

And just because she liked to dance, didn't mean she was a hooker too. No, there was no one that even propositioned that to her. There were other girls that did it, but not Daisy. That reminded her too much of her past, and those years after high school that were muddled with hazy memories and filled with regrets. She didn't like those years and actively tried to forget them.

She looked at her quiver sitting on the floorboard of the truck, with not even one pink feathered arrow in it. She hoped she wouldn't need them to remind her to be strong in this new world. She took a deep breath and shifted in her seat, and reached out to flip on the radio. There was static now. The recordings telling them to go to Atlanta for the refugee center had stopped about three days ago. She figured whoever was running the radio station must have heeded their own advice and booked it to Atlanta as well. She couldn't fathom any other reason for those recordings to have stopped otherwise. Flipping off the radio, she stared out the window again, but this time, actually seeing the trees and the back of Merle on his motorcycle as he led them through the back roads towards Atlanta.

* . * . *

Merle smiled to himself. He'd been excited to find a nice stash of drugs in that woman's purse back at the sex shop, and he was already ramped up to get to Atlanta to set up camp and have himself a little party. He was taking the back roads because he figured the interstate would probably be a bit backed up from all the empty cars liked they'd seen yesterday. Back roads meant less traffic and meant he could ride just a bit faster than Daryl had been moping along yesterday.

Meeting up with Daisy yesterday outside of that dead town had him smiling to himself too. What had she done got herself into, he thought to himself shaking his head slightly. He couldn't tell by looking at her, her choice of clothing covered her up pretty good, but when she'd wrapped her arms around his neck and he pulled her to him in that huge bear hug she loved so much, he knew. That little bump in her lower belly. He wondered if Daryl had noticed. Probably not, he was being such a pussy about even looking at her. He knew Daryl had carried a torch for her back when they were kids, but he couldn't still be all up in knots about her, could he?

They'd obviously been talking or something for her to have known they were at the cabin. For Daryl to have known she was a stripper. Maybe there was more to Daryl's bitch attitude than Merle thought. No matter, as he drove past the most recent cars his mind took him back to when he first met Daisy. Just shy of eight and not scared of anything, or anyone for that matter.

The high squeal of children playing caused sixteen-year-old Merle to step out onto the rickety trailer porch, bare-chested and tan from working outside over the summer. The shrill scream came again followed by two distinct sets of giggles. Merle caught sight of the two children barreling through the trees. Eight-year-old Daryl sprang out behind a pretty little blonde girl of about the same age. He had a smile on his dirty face, no shirt or shoes. The shorts he wore were tied around his waist with a length of rope. They were hand-me-downs from Merle but were so long they looked like high water britches instead.

Both Daryl and the little girl giggled again and Merle looked on with a grin of his own. But just as the two kids were headed up the steps, old man Dixon stepped out of the shadow of the front door. Daryl froze in his tracks, fear quickly replacing the carefree joy on his face. The girl had turned her head to look back at Daryl, to see if he was still behind her and ran right into Merle.

"Whoops-a-daisy," Merle said as he caught the little girl from falling over after running into his legs.

"How d'ya know my name was Daisy?"

"What's all the hollerin' about?" old man Dixon's scratchy voice sounded over the little girl's question.

"Nothin' Pa," Merle said, his voice already a deep register, but not scratchy with age or substance abuse yet.

"Well, go do sumtin' with that nothin'," he said, referencing the little girl. "Daryl," the older man called out, "come in here and get your old man a beer."

Head down, the little boy went inside immediately, not even a glance to tell his new friend goodbye.

"But—" the little girl started, either oblivious to the tension or not afraid of it, "we weren't finished playin'." She said as she tried to grab Daryl's hand before he disappeared behind his father into the house.

"Merle," the old man said, his voice stern and commanding.

"I know, Pa," he acquiesced. He hoisted the child up and started back to her house. The almost eight-year-old Daisy was slight and small for her age and didn't say a word as Merle carried her back to her house through the woods. She just stared after where she had last seen Daryl and his old man before they entered the rundown trailer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you care to find out where I might have taken it if I had not lost motivation for it you can check out [this one-shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12242124/chapters/28330821). Warning for graphic violence, gore, horror, and child death—but what do you expect?—it's a Walking Dead fic.


End file.
